


Entice

by 3raser (kay_elizabeth_roxx)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beard Kink is the Best Kink, Consensual Underage Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Shameless Smut, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_elizabeth_roxx/pseuds/3raser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teenage Arthur was very pleased, to say the least, when his older boyfriend Eames grew a beard. What he didn't account for was the wicked beard burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entice

"Come on, Ariadne, this is important!" Arthur insisted, dragging her attention away from the design magazine she was poring over. "If the phone rings at your house tonight, make sure you're the one who answers it. If it's my mom, tell her I'm in the bathroom, shoot me a text, and I'll call her back on my cell."

"I know the drill," she sighed, turning a page. "I've been covering for you and Eames for what, nine months now?"

"Eleven and a half," Arthur automatically corrected, scowling when she snickered. "Shut up."

"Why do you get to have a sexy older boyfriend, anyway?" Ariadne grumbled, flipping her hood up as they left the school building. "Running off to have sexy rendezvous and whatnot."

Arthur snorted. "Sneaking off, you mean. If Mom ever found out, she'd probably just chop my balls off and put an end to it forever."

They reached Ariadne's bus, pausing for a hug. "Thanks for helping me out, Ari. We don't get many opportunities like this."

"And by that you mean, you don't often get the opportunity to fuck all night undisturbed," she grinned, and Arthur elbowed her, turning pink.

"Ouch! Goodbye to you too, asshole!" she yelped, sticking her tongue out at him before taking the bus steps two at a time. Arthur shook his head, laughing as he headed off down the sidewalk. 

The sky above him was a uniform slate gray, but the shitty weather wasn't enough to stifle the excitement growing in the pit of his stomach. His mom only went out of town for business three or four times a year, and even then, they were rarely overnight trips. 

Arthur smiled to himself, remembering how Eames had grinned when he'd told him that she wouldn't be back until tomorrow evening. Overnight stays were a rare luxury in their relationship, and were savored as such.

"Now what's a fine young thing like you doing out in the rain, darling?" a low voice called, a familiar car slowing to a crawl beside him. Eames' rough, honeyed tone was like a caress, and Arthur shivered, his fingertips tingling.

"Creep," Arthur laughed, eyes glinting as he opened the door and slid inside. "You couldn't just wait for me to get home?"

"You know I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress, my sweet," Eames said, and Arthur scoffed, stopping dead halfway through as he turned to look at him.

"What?" Eames asked, eyes glittering. 

Arthur opened his mouth. Closed it. Swallowed hard.

"Jesus fuck, Eames," he finally muttered, eyes locked onto his jaw. "How long has it been since you shaved?"

"Hmmm," Eames pondered, rubbing his chin. "A few weeks, maybe. Why? Don't you like it?"

"You look like some kind of mountain man," Arthur said, avoiding the question. "That or a lumberjack."

"Both worthy professions," Eames smirked, tilting his face like he could sense just how badly Arthur wanted to touch it (because oh god, he did). 

"Fuck," Arthur murmured, reaching out to smooth his palm across the coarse hair. He was only mildly surprised when that alone made his dick twitch in his jeans.

Eames tipped his face into the caress, glancing down at Arthur's lap with heavy-lidded eyes. Arthur leaned in closer, wanting to bury his face into that scruff and inhale, but they were already in his driveway.

"I'll only be a minute," Arthur murmured, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. "I already have my stuff packed."

"I'll be waiting," Eames smiled, eyes still hot, and Arthur swallowed thickly, hurrying inside.

Arthur tore through his house like a whirlwind, grabbing his bag and making sure the cat had enough food. Once he was sure everything was taken care of, he locked the door behind him and slung his stuff into the backseat of Eames' car. They didn't waste any time sitting around in the driveway--Arthur's neighbors had never mentioned seeing him leave with Eames, but if his mother ever caught wind of it from them, there would be hell to pay.

"The guy I rented out my basement to is going to be home tonight," Eames reported, "so I thought we'd rent a hotel room for the night. Is that all right with you?"

"Of course," he replied. As if Eames didn't already know that anything involving the two of them alone together was all right by him.

They passed most of the ride in semi-comfortable conversation, their usually playful banter weighed down by poorly concealed desire. Arthur filled Eames in on all the latest happenings at school; Eames filled Arthur in on all the crazy shit that happened at work. For a relatively boring job in marketing, Eames certainly met a lot of bozos.

Eames parked outside the hotel and led Arthur into the lobby, pressing a reassuring hand to the small of his back. Arthur was always a bit nervous when they checked into hotels together, even though he knew, realistically, that there was nothing to worry about. The receptionist no doubt assumed that Eames was his father: Arthur could look closer to 14 than 17 when he wanted to, and Eames' new beard certainly made him look older than 25.

The receptionist handed Eames a key card, giggling when he winked at her. Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Eames was a terrible flirt, especially, for some reason, with the gender he had absolutely no interest in.

"Let's go, my love," Eames murmured, hitching his bag up over his shoulder. Arthur followed suit, stepping into the elevator behind him. The ride up to their floor seemed to pass in slow motion, the two of them shooting glances back and forth in a coy little game.

The hotel suite was bland but spacious, the bed covered in a soft-looking gold duvet. Arthur grinned to himself as Eames made a point of hanging the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door handle.

Eames walked over to drop his bag in the closet once he was finished, sliding out of his suit jacket in the process. Arthur licked his lips, watching intently. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but the beard somehow made everything about Eames seem bigger. His shoulders seemed especially wide and hard beneath his dress shirt, tensing as he undid his cufflinks and loosened his tie.

"Just what do you think you're looking at?" Eames grunted when he caught Arthur staring, his lips quirking into a smile. Arthur's mouth was suddenly, inexplicably dry, and he swallowed hard, his throat giving an audible click.

"Not much," Arthur teased, sauntering up to him as he finished rolling up his sleeves. His forearms were thick and tanned, and Arthur gripped them, stretching up to rub his face against the thick, rough hair covering his jaw.

He could feel Eames holding back, his body tensed with the effort. Arthur grinned, stretching up onto his tiptoes to nuzzle his ear, his own smooth cheek rasping gently against Eames'. He let out a soft moan at the feeling, and Eames shuddered against him in reply, arms finally reaching out to encircle his thin waist.

Eames smelled vaguely of cologne and old smoke, and Arthur buried his nose into the scent, nuzzling the scruff like a cat. Eames' fingers were restless on his body, playing with the soft, untamed curls at the nape of his neck, and Arthur moaned again, knuckles going white against his broad shoulders.

"Does that get you hot, darling?" Eames rumbled, trailing wet kisses down his throat before rubbing his face there. Arthur mumbled a vague agreement, aching to touch Eames' soft, pink lips. They looked moist and inviting, surrounded by all that curling hair, but he forced himself to refrain, drawing out the moment.

"C'mere," Eames finally murmured, swinging him up into his arms, and Arthur yelped, arms going around his neck.

"I can walk, you know," Arthur dryly reminded him, although he could hardly protest being wrapped up in all that muscle, supporting his weight as if it were nothing. He could feel Eames' biceps bulging beneath him, and he nestled into his broad chest with a smile, lips catching upon a fabric-covered nipple.

"Jesus, Arthur," Eames grunted, watching him as he flicked his tongue against the cotton. Arthur loved it when Eames watched his mouth like that, his eyes narrowed and dark with desire.

"Are you ever going to put me down?" Arthur asked, smiling sweetly as his thumb traced Eames' nipple. The slightly darkened ring hardened quickly, and Eames growled, tossing him onto the mattress.

Arthur's shirt rucked up around his middle, revealing a pale strip of skin, and he arched his back with a slow grin, showing off. Eames' cock was hard in his pants, and he looked down on him with dilated pupils, his eyes black with the thinnest strip of blue-green. 

Arthur licked his lips, a challenge in his eyes.

Eames shook his head minutely, unknotting his tie with carefully measured movements. Arthur tracked the progress of his lover's thick fingers with interest, watching them undo the small, slick buttons of his dress shirt. Eames slid the shirt off once they were undone, thick shoulders shifting, and Arthur bit his lip, fingers itching to rake through his soft chest hair. His nipples were dusky brown and hard, and Arthur wanted to crawl over to the edge of the bed and suck them, wanted to take one into his mouth and rub his face against all those dark, swirling tattoos.

He looked big, hard, and intimidating; in other words, the kind of guy you wouldn't want to fuck with. It made Arthur tremble to think that this man wanted to fuck him of all people, just a scrawny little teenager.

Eames' hands dropped to his belt buckle, and Arthur's tongue crept into the corner of his mouth, his own hand trailing slowly down his body. His fingertips just barely dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans, feeling the heat there, and Eames growled out a warning, eyes flashing.

"Then let me help you with that," Arthur bargained, reaching for his belt buckle with a grin.

He looked up at Eames from under his eyelashes, just the way he knew Eames liked, and undid the buckle, pulling the belt out from its loops.

His eyes were drawn to the tattoo spanning Eames' lower stomach: Till I die SW. He didn't know who “S.W.” was—he'd never cared to ask—but he always made a point of sucking bruises against it, or digging his fingernails into it while he sucked Eames' cock. If S.W. got to leave a mark, then so did he.

Arthur started in on the button of his slacks, nuzzling the hard bulge tucked inside, but Eames caught his wrists and pushed him away. Arthur looked up at him, pouting out his lower lip, and immediately felt a rush of heat to his groin—god he looked sexy like that, mouth parted, his beard accentuating just how big he was, how undeniably male.

“That's enough for now,” he mumbled, pressing Arthur back into the mattress. Arthur felt caged in by his bulk, overheated, and he parted his lips in invitation, hands trying and failing to circle his biceps.

Eames nuzzled at his chin, beard scratching his lips in a cruel tease, and Arthur whined, nudging him towards his mouth.

“Now what do you want?” Eames murmured, grinning slow, and Arthur wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down.

His mouth tasted vaguely of cinnamon gum, and Arthur gave a breathy moan, knowing what he must sound like and not caring one bit. He hadn't kissed his boyfriend in nearly two weeks, and he was damn well going to do it right now that he could.

Eames' throat was rough beneath his fingertips, pulse jumping madly, and Arthur slid his hand up to cup his jaw, thumb stroking the shaggy edge of his beard. They were still kissing relatively chastely, breathing into it and sighing out the occasional moan, and Arthur's face already felt scrubbed raw and sensitive.

“You're giving me rug burn,” Arthur breathlessly accused, twining the fingers of one hand into his beard, and Eames chuckled low in his chest.

“It's called beard burn, my love,” Eames replied, pushing Arthur's shirt up and leaving a trail of kisses behind. “And it looks absolutely marvelous on you.”

He paused to rub his cheek against Arthur's nipple, smiling when he begged him to please oh god do that again. 

“That feels good, hmm?” Eames murmured, mouthing at the small pink nub as Arthur tossed his shirt onto the floor. When Eames finally pulled away, suckling him one last time, the rasp of hair against the hard wet bud was enough to make Arthur's hips snap forward.

Arthur wasn't shy about asking for what he wanted anymore. When they'd first gotten together, he hadn't even been able to meet Eames' eyes as he stuttered out that he'd maybe sort of like to suck his cock. Now he knew for a fact what made Eames hot, and strangely enough, Arthur taking initiative did the job.

“Now just what do you think you're doing?” Eames growled, when Arthur dragged Eames' hand down between his legs. The smile Arthur gave him was coy, and he bit his lip, pressing his erection up into his boyfriend's palm.

Giving into him for only a moment, Eames dipped his tongue into his mouth before abruptly catching his hands and trapping them over his head. Arthur's heart stuttered in his chest—Eames' hand easily engulfed both of his wrists, squeezing the delicate bones.

Those bulging muscles held him just like that, Arthur's thin frame quivering as kisses were sucked against his lips. His mouth felt swollen and raw, rubbed ragged against the hair covering Eames' jaw and upper lip.

Arthur managed to lift his hips when directed, allowing Eames to drag his jeans off and toss them away. His cock was askew in his briefs, hot and leaking against his thigh, and Eames leaned down to nuzzle it, beard tickling his thighs.

“Mm, you're wet,” Eames cooed, pulling his briefs down his thighs. Precome was already dribbling down the head, cock flushed and swollen, and Eames buried his face into the crease where thigh met groin, inhaling.

“You love this, don't you?” Eames asked, rubbing his beard against the soft flesh of his inner thighs. Arthur nodded, legs trembling where they were spread around Eames' thick shoulders. He wanted that soft mouth against his cock, scruffy hair teasing his balls, but Eames flipped him over onto his stomach instead, leaning up over him.

“You'll like this,” Eames promised, dragging his cheek against the smooth slope of his shoulder.

“I always do,” Arthur mumbled, burying his face into the pillow as Eames kissed his way downwards.

~

Eames rumbled deep in his chest, nuzzling the notches of Arthur's spine. His beard chafed across the sensitive flesh, prickling down his spine, and Arthur moaned, pressing his ass back against him. The rough caress of Eames' beard was a potent complement to his soft, suckling lips, lush and wet as they parted against Arthur's skin.

Strong arms caught him around the hips and tugged him back, Eames' face nestling against the small of his back. His tongue slipped out to touch the dimple just above the swell of his ass, a soft, wet point of heat amidst a mass of scruffy hair.

A soft moan escaped Arthur's lips as Eames forced his hips back down onto the mattress, his erection pressing against the hot sheets. He blushed all the way down his neck when Eames finally spread his ass, blowing a cool stream of air against the little pink pucker he found there.

Arthur couldn't help but clench at the feeling, and Eames made that sexy rumbling noise in his chest again, rubbing his jaw all along the curve of his ass. Eames' shaggy hair just barely brushed the edges of his hole, the gentlest of touches, and Arthur mewled out a plea, struggling to press back against Eames' face.

“I know, baby,” Eames whispered, gravelly with desire, before spreading him wide and nuzzling in. He started with slow, suckling kisses all down the cleft of his ass, intentionally avoiding the tight clench of his hole, and Arthur cried out, thighs straining.

“Please, Eames,” Arthur gasped, hands twining into the sheets. “Put your mouth on me. I know you want to eat me out.”

“Where did you get such a dirty mouth, my love?” Eames murmured, before sliding his lips over his hole in a wet, sucking kiss. Arthur moaned, his hair flopping into his eyes as he arched his neck. His cock was throbbing against the bedsheets, dripping madly, but all he could focus on was the feeling of Eames' lips, his beard stimulating every nerve surrounding the sensitive clutch of muscle.

The first hot press of Eames' tongue drew a keening wail from Arthur's throat, and he buried his face into the mattress, gasping and panting. Eames curled his tongue against his entrance in response, writhing the tip against the dusky pucker before pushing inside.

“Eames.... Eames, please, that feels so good,” Arthur whined. He wasn't quite sure of what he was begging for, but Eames seemed to know, palms cradling his sharp hipbones as he worked his tongue in and out of him. Arthur's cock twitched between his thighs, dribbling precome, and Eames shifted his face with a grin, beard prickling his balls.

“Nnh!” Arthur groaned, hips jerking against the bed, and Eames stuck his hand between the soft heat of his thighs, caressing his cock. Arthur wailed in reply, every inch of his body tight and quivering as he hovered on the edge of orgasm.

“C'mon, darling, come for me,” Eames rasped, sucking marks into the flesh of his thighs, and Arthur did, spilling into Eames' hand with a broken wail of his name.

Spots of white exploded behind Arthur's eyelids as he gasped into the sheets, his entire body lax and oversensitive. Eames was panting as well, his eyes dark as he pulled himself up the bed.

“You're red all over,” Eames rumbled, cupping his chin, and Arthur looked up at him, blushing scarlet. His lips were swollen and rosy, his beard wet with spit, and Arthur thought he'd never looked quite so sexy.

And he was right—Arthur could feel his entire body prickling with heat, a rash no doubt marking the path Eames had taken. Beard burn should be uncomfortable, that much Arthur knew, but at the moment he just wanted to roll around in the soft sheets and moan in pleasure.

Eames' cock was still swollen between his thighs, and Arthur licked his lips, thumbing the seam of his trousers. “Take these off.”

He did so without comment, sliding out of his slacks and briefs, and Arthur pushed himself up onto his elbows, nudging the larger man back onto his haunches. His body looked delicious like this, cock and balls resting heavily between his thick, corded thighs. 

Eames' pubic hair was wet with precome, a thin strand of it still connected to his cockhead, and Arthur leaned in for a taste, wrapping his lips around the head. Purring into the musk of him, Arthur suckled the crown of his cock as Eames moaned lowly. Tremors shook the mattress beneath them, and Arthur groaned, throat clenching. 

“Please, I want it,” Arthur breathed, pulling back, and Eames took his own cock in hand, thick ropes of come spurting against Arthur's lips and catching in his eyelashes.

“Look at you, darling,” Eames reverently murmured once he was finished, cupping Arthur's face and leaning down to lick him clean. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed, basking in the attention as Eames' scruff rubbed against his bruised lips.

Next door, a very unhappy businessman pulled out a pair of hastily-inserted earplugs, scowling.

~

“Why don't we go out tonight, love?” Eames suggested, carding his fingers through Arthur's soft curls. They were curled up together on the bed at the moment, loose sweatpants barely clinging to their hips. “I'll take you to that sushi place you like so much. We'll make it a date.”

Arthur shook his head, making a face. “It won't be a real date. I don't wanna sit somewhere and act like we're friends or relatives or whatever.”

“Besides,” he mumbled, tucking his face up under his chin, “I'll be 18 in three months. Then you'll be able to take me on real dates, and my Mom won't be able to say a thing.”

Eames chuckled, tickling his beard against Arthur's forehead. “Oh, I have a feeling she'll still be fully capable of saying things. Seeing her baby boy go off with an old codger like me....”

“Seven years isn't even that big of a gap!” Arthur protested, vehement. “Mom and Dad were five years apart, and that was never a big deal. It's not like you're 40 or something.”

Arthur's eyes were surprisingly uncertain when he glanced up, his palm smoothing down the scruff covering Eames' jaw. “You don't think it's that big of a gap, do you?”

“It doesn't matter if it is or not,” Eames replied, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It doesn't change anything, right?”

“Right,” Arthur smiled, cheeks dimpling. Eames' insides melted at the sight.

“Let's not talk about it anymore,” Arthur whispered, wrapping his arms around Eames' neck and tipping his chin to offer up his tender lips. Eames grunted, accepting the invitation with pleasure—Arthur had the sweetest, softest mouth, even when swollen and bruised.

The hotel telephone suddenly rang, startling them both, and Eames chuckled into his mouth, reaching over to answer it.

“H'lo?”

The voice on the other end of the line was female, and vaguely uncomfortable beneath a sheen of professionalism. “Hello, this is Room 124, correct? Mr. Eames?”

“Why, yes,” Eames cheerfully replied. “What can I do for you?”

Eames already had an inkling, but it still sent a secret thrill down his spine to hear the words. “We've had some complaints of, um, loud noises coming from your room. I must ask that you keep it down, for the comfort of all of our guests.”

“Oh, my. I apologize! I assure you it won't happen again.”

“Thank you very much,” she replied, hanging up before he could offer a goodbye. 

Eames dropped the phone back into its cradle, chuckling as Arthur nudged him.

“What was that about?”

Eames smiled indulgently, fingers trailing down his back. “It seems our neighbors didn't appreciate your gorgeous moaning quite so much as I did, duckling.”

Heat slammed into Arthur's cheeks, turning them a rather fetching shade of scarlet, and Eames kissed them both, his groin stirring.

“Come now, don't be bashful,” Eames murmured, sucking a tiny mark just beneath his ear. It looked good there, tucked in against his long, black curls. “They're probably jealous that they aren't the ones making you moan like that.”

“Come on, Eames,” Arthur breathed, as Eames slipped his sweatpants down over his hips. “We shouldn't....”

“You'll just have to keep quiet this time, won't you?” Eames mumbled, tugging on his hand, and Arthur came into his lap willingly enough, all pale, lithe limbs. Eames rubbed his hands down Arthur's shoulders, heat building between his thighs as he realized once again just how beautiful and delicate his lover was. His silhouette was gorgeous to look at, like a painting—slim, angular shoulders tapering down into a trim waist and a pert, jaunty little ass.

His hipbones were favorite spots as well: two smooth, jutting curves of bone just perfect for grabbing onto while fucking him from behind. 

Arthur straddled his hips, ass settling down into his lap, and Eames growled as he wiggled against his cock, just the slightest tease. He was quite the image of debauchery, biting his lips to hold back his moans, his entire body scratched red by Eames' beard. That was inexplicably arousing, knowing that Arthur's soft inner thighs were rubbed raw, and he still wanted more.

“I'm going to finger you now, okay?” Eames mumbled into his mouth, and Arthur caught himself halfway through a moan, nodding instead. The lube was already on the nightstand, and Eames scrabbled for it, slicking his fingers.

He nudged Arthur upwards, thighs slung wide to accommodate his hips. This put Eames' face level with a large swathe of stubble burn spanning Arthur's chest, and he couldn't help but darken it, dragging his chin against the milky flesh.

Arthur exhaled hard as Eames fingered the rim of his hole, no doubt still tender from his mouth. The little pucker clenched and released, a tacit plea, and Eames slipped his middle finger inside, burying it into the soft heat of him.

Arthur pressed his fist to his mouth to stifle his little mewls of pleasure, thighs quivering delicately. Eames found Arthur's prostate with a crook of his finger, caressing the little bundle of nerves as he rubbed himself all over his chest, inhaling the scent of his lover's arousal.

The drag of his cheek against Arthur's skin felt amazing, and he happily latched onto a nipple, suckling the hard nub as he pushed another finger inside. The silky muscles encasing him spasmed, clenching down hard around the digits. He was visibly shaking now, and Eames fumbled his sweatpants down just far enough to free his erection, a continuous rumble vibrating in his chest. 

“Shh, you're all right,” Eames cooed, slicking his cock and catching Arthur's thin hips between his hands. “You know what to do now, don't you, my love?”

Arthur nodded, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he reached back for Eames' cock. He guided it slowly to his hole, thighs quaking as he lowered himself down onto it. Eames steadied his hips and grunted against his chest, lips parting. Nothing could compare to the feeling of Arthur encasing him, inner muscles velvet-soft and pulsing.

“Eames, I c-can't—“ Arthur whimpered, gnawing brutally at his lips, and Eames nodded in understanding, raising one hand to cover his mouth. Arthur squirmed happily in his lap once he was silenced, shifting back and forth on his cock, and Eames growled low, biting at a nipple. 

Arthur's eyes slipped shut, his hair falling into his face as he bounced on Eames' cock, moans stifled against his palm. Eames rubbed the cut of his jaw restlessly against Arthur's shoulders, hips twitching as he watched his lover's cock bob between his legs. It was a wonderfully erotic sight, his balls full and tight between his slender thighs, flushed red and radiating heat.

Arthur's fingers drifted from Eames' shoulders to his face, twining into his beard, and Eames hummed a low note of approval, relishing the pull and drag. Arthur's hips were working quickly now, fucking himself down onto Eames' hot shaft with abandon. He could tell Arthur loved this, riding him like a pony, his fingers pulling and stroking at his beard.

His fingers were moist with Arthur's panting breaths, and he could hardly believe that this boy was his, that he wanted to be here with him. He was absolutely flawless, arching and slick with sweat, and Eames planted his free hand onto the bed, thighs tensing as he thrust up into his body. Arthur whimpered against his hand in reply, a flush creeping down his neck, and Eames thrust up again, fucking that tight wetness.

“M'gonna come,” Arthur mumbled through his fingers, garbled, and Eames undulated his hips beneath him, feeling his own orgasm rear up. The slick muscles around him suddenly contracted, Arthur writhing in his lap as his cock spilled between them with a languid jerk. Eames moaned at the feeling, muffling the noise against Arthur's neck as he came and came and came. 

He quickly filled Arthur up, soaking his own cock and Arthur's insides, and the sensation drew one last spurt from Arthur, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Mmm,” Arthur said, once Eames' hand left his mouth, and he leaned down for a kiss, letting Eames' cock slip from his body. Eames felt wrecked and raw, muscles aching from exertion and orgasm, and he laid Arthur down on the bed, smothering him in kisses.

“Was I quiet enough?” Arthur inquired with a sleepy grin, hair a crazy mess of curls against the pillow, and Eames nuzzled his nose with his own, smiling.

“You certainly were, petal.”

~

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his chair, waiting for his mom to get home. His skin felt hot and about two sizes too small, his clothes chafing unbearably. Every inch of him felt rubbed raw, a large portion of his body covered in a dusky red rash.

He'd spent almost an hour naked in his bed, rolling around on the soft cotton sheets in a futile effort to ease the prickling. He could still feel Eames rubbing against him like some kind of affectionate grizzly bear, nuzzling into his thighs.

The memory sent a bolt of arousal straight to his cock, and Arthur took a deep breath, rubbing absently at the rash covering his neck.

Maybe his mom wouldn't notice.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket, and he grabbed for it, smiling at the caller ID.

"You just dropped me off thirty minutes ago, Eames," Arthur grinned. "What could you possibly want?"

"Must you call me out so directly, my sweet?" Eames chuckled, voice low and rich. "I miss you already, you know. I had a wonderful time."

"I had a good time, too," Arthur murmured back, smiling to himself. "I always do."

"Well, my dear, text me when your mother gets home," Eames said, "and try to cover up those hickeys, all right?"

"I already did," Arthur laughed. "...And hey, Eames?"

"Yeah?"

He paused, lips twitching upwards. "I love you."

"And I love you, my darling," Eames murmured, his voice warm. "Good night."

The sound of a car approaching the house startled Arthur, and he murmured a goodbye, hanging up the phone.

A key rattled in the front door, and his mom entered, looking rumpled and jet lagged. She dropped her suitcase by the door, startling a little when she spotted him in the armchair.

“Arthur!” she smiled, walking over to kiss his cheek. “I didn't expect you home yet!”

“How was your trip?” he smiled, casually tugging the collar of his shirt further up his neck.

“Oh, it was all right,” she said, waving a hand. 

She paused, taking a closer look at him. Arthur's smile froze on his lips.

“What happened to your face and neck?” she asked, tilting his chin to get a closer look. “You have some kind of rash all over you!”

“It's nothing,” he dismissed, voice carefully neutral. “I guess I got a little windburnt on the way home from Ariadne's house.”

“You should put some aloe on that,” she suggested, patting his cheek before heading into the kitchen.

Arthur tipped his head back and sighed in relief, thanking his lucky stars that his mother only dated smooth-shaven men.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/20092.html?thread=49987196#t49987196) prompt at [Inception_kink](http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/).


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